tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42941768750476106232019-02-03T19:29:45.117-08:00THE ALCHEMIST'S KITCHENPoetry, Travel, and the Creative Writing Life with Susan Rich Susan Richhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11883699379179129887noreply@blogger.comBlogger1004125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-12096422753725586792019-02-01T15:35:00.002-08:002019-02-01T15:39:45.804-08:00My Personal Favorite Poem Is ...<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y_FSA3JpfjQ/XFTWDr1ToGI/AAAAAAAACCQ/THjrtAvfNuM9gRgB4IZa5rjuf6jbVADOQCLcBGAs/s1600/Heart.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="950" data-original-width="982" height="309" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y_FSA3JpfjQ/XFTWDr1ToGI/AAAAAAAACCQ/THjrtAvfNuM9gRgB4IZa5rjuf6jbVADOQCLcBGAs/s320/Heart.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />I am super thankful for this<a href="https://kellyfordon.com/2019/02/01/my-personal-favorite-susan-rich/">&nbsp;interview with Kelly Fordon</a> on the topic of my personal favorite poem. I used the occasion to think about what makes a poem work. Here is a little bit of what I wrote:<br /><br />"I believe that a good poem needs to surprise its writer and also to risk something aesthetically or emotionally, preferably both. “Shadowbox” is a poem with origins in a writing prompt that my friend, the poet Elizabeth Austen, introduced me to one Friday morning.<br /><br />Once a month we meet, drink coffee, share what we’re reading and then write together. When life becomes overwhelming our meetings ensure that we will still have some poetry drafts started. Now as we begin our fourth year of meeting together, we have seen several of our Friday morning poems grow-up to be revised, polished, and eventually published. For this poem, I began with a random set of words that would become the end-words for each line of the poem (horses, something, decisions, coming, dark, aftermath…)."<br /><br />Kelly hosts a blog that features poets and fiction writers from across the country. You can <a href="https://kellyfordon.com/2019/02/01/my-personal-favorite-susan-rich/?fbclid=IwAR0bcSXG1D884RCYsq7gPzdlZt2VnV9Cq4Vz-s6y2nakBBuql4mWjOukVgk">click here</a> to take a look.Susan Richhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11883699379179129887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-61065590754742896792019-01-21T11:39:00.001-08:002019-01-22T19:28:30.449-08:00Poetry Wishes for a Community --- Mary Oliver, Poets on the Coast, and Groundhog Day Writing Retreat.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Zmiatfe4C40/XEYQ7q6AqLI/AAAAAAAACBo/Mzi92GWWQCwywJQFQfGxSGLkDdTsFJbSgCLcBGAs/s1600/POETRY%2BLOGO.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="1146" height="208" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Zmiatfe4C40/XEYQ7q6AqLI/AAAAAAAACBo/Mzi92GWWQCwywJQFQfGxSGLkDdTsFJbSgCLcBGAs/s400/POETRY%2BLOGO.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br />I sometimes wonder if I would still be writing poetry if I hadn't moved to Seattle. I live in a city proud of its convivial literary community. There are over a dozen regular reading series across the city, including <a href="https://wordswestliterary.weebly.com/">WordsWest </a>which I cofounded and now co-curate with <a href="http://www.katyeellis.com/about/">Katy Ellis</a> and <a href="http://www.haroldtaw.com/">Harold Taw.</a>&nbsp;Over the past five years we have hosted such poets as Terrance Hayes, Rick Barot, Aimee Nezhukumatathil, and this year, <b>Mark Doty and Ilya Kaminsky.</b> I think this only could have happened in Seattle. In this case, we are in West Seattle.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jXdf2XBELMk/XEYa2oLFqWI/AAAAAAAACB0/pFUhY-olLOoidiIFTWJTHVrzMs_X8SYagCEwYBhgL/s1600/woman%2Bat%2Btypewriter.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="776" data-original-width="1418" height="175" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jXdf2XBELMk/XEYa2oLFqWI/AAAAAAAACB0/pFUhY-olLOoidiIFTWJTHVrzMs_X8SYagCEwYBhgL/s320/woman%2Bat%2Btypewriter.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />Nine years ago I cofounded <a href="http://poetsonthecoast.weebly.com/register.html">Poets on the Coast</a> with <a href="https://agodon.com/index.html">Kelli Russell Agodon.</a> Each September we organize a long weekend of writing, craft talks, and community in the poetry loving town of La Conner, Washington. Many women join us annually and others dip in every second or third year. Every year we welcome new poets. There are always several published authors with books and other women who are on their first poetry retreat ever. <b>Then there is everyone in-between from ages 21 to 82. We still have 4 spots left.</b><br /><br />Today, I just finished listening to the podcast <a href="https://onbeing.org/programs/mary-oliver-listening-to-the-world/">"On Being with Krista Tippet"</a> where Tippet interviews Mary Oliver. I am still in the glow of Ms. Oliver's voice, her words, her generosity. It originally aired in October 2015 and so was conducted in the last years of her life when she had left Provincetown, Massachusetts after the death of her longterm partner, Molly Malone Cook.<br /><br />One of the many things that I jotted down while listening to Oliver is:&nbsp; <b>"Poetry wishes for a community." </b>She also spoke about <b>"the writer's courtship"</b> and the importance of creating time and space in one's life to write --- preferably while being outdoors.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MCrpDtnCGoM/XEYbWhcUIcI/AAAAAAAACB8/_T_Fl-RFrE4iCa6PHwU5e6zWf9zvoqPmACLcBGAs/s1600/woman%2Bwriting%2Boutdoors.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1130" data-original-width="1492" height="242" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MCrpDtnCGoM/XEYbWhcUIcI/AAAAAAAACB8/_T_Fl-RFrE4iCa6PHwU5e6zWf9zvoqPmACLcBGAs/s320/woman%2Bwriting%2Boutdoors.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><b>Abracadabrah!</b> (which in Arabic means, <i>I will create as I write)</i> On February 2nd, <a href="http://poetsonthecoast.weebly.com/mini-retreat.html">Groundhog's Day</a>, Kelli and I will lead a <a href="http://poetsonthecoast.weebly.com/mini-retreat.html">one-day writing retreat.&nbsp;</a>&nbsp;In the morning we will lead a <b>Generating New Poems</b> workshop and in the afternoon, <b>Thinking About the Next Book</b>. Descriptions for both are on the <a href="http://poetsonthecoast.weebly.com/mini-retreat.html">website;</a> you can sign-up for one or both workshops.<br /><br />Here is what I know: poetry needs community; it thrives when poets come together to write, to share ideas, to acknowledge the poetic voice in one another. These retreats always leave me feeling nourished. I do not know what I would do alone in a garret unless I had my poetry community to gather with in early autumn and late winter. Groundhog Day is only two weeks away. We would love to have you join us. I know of no other more welcoming group of women poets --- and yes, an occasional male poet, too. If you would like to register on-line or by check just scroll down past the class descriptions --- <a href="http://poetsonthecoast.weebly.com/mini-retreat.html">here's the link</a>.<br /><br />I want to keep Mary Oliver's gorgeous words in the world; I believe she will be remembered long into the next generation. Here is a favorite poem --- out of so many. This one seems to get a bit less airtime. It is called <a href="http://maryoliverpoetry.tumblr.com/post/78089363986/spring">"Spring"</a> but so are other poems, I believe. Here are the first few lines.<br /><br /><h2 style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, Times, serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px;">Spring</h2><div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, Times, serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; outline: none; padding: 0px;">Somewhere<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;a black bear<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;has just risen from sleep<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;and is staring<br /><br style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" />down the mountain.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;All night<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;in the brisk and shallow restlessness<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;of early spring<br /><br style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" />I think of her,<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;her four black fists<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;flicking the gravel,<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;her tongue<br /><br style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" />like a red fire<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;touching the grass,<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;the cold water.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;There is only one question:</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br />Susan Richhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11883699379179129887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-29359236742746830142019-01-19T16:47:00.002-08:002019-01-21T11:53:38.017-08:00Poems, Poets, and Posterity<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xZM0xumh8NU/XEO-jBogmHI/AAAAAAAACBQ/-qcphrnIO603WMbVTifPTIAt2cnJrrhOgCLcBGAs/s1600/Mary%2BOliver%2Byoung.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1005" data-original-width="1600" height="201" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xZM0xumh8NU/XEO-jBogmHI/AAAAAAAACBQ/-qcphrnIO603WMbVTifPTIAt2cnJrrhOgCLcBGAs/s320/Mary%2BOliver%2Byoung.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />From the ticker-tape of cable news to the New York Times obituary to the on-line tweets and postings, it seems the country is mourning the death of the beloved poet, Mary Oliver. I came of age, poetically speaking, in the late 1980's and the first single collection of poems I ever bought was Mary Oliver's House of Light at the Grollier Poetry Bookshop.<br /><br />I went home to my small apartment (situated on a traffic island between Bow Street and Arrow) to read her work. I owned a few other books of poetry --- Elizabeth Bishop, Edna St. Vincent Millay and Adrienne Rich (no relation) but this was different.<br /><br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <i>&nbsp;There is only one question:</i><br /><i><br /></i><i>how to love this world.</i><br /><i><br /></i>I remember that line so well. <i>Could</i> a poem teach this? Was there a way to find one's place in the world so strongly that you could embrace it fully? Be<i> a bride to amazement</i>, as Oliver later said?<br /><br />I heard her speak at Seattle University five years ago. She was as generous a speaker as I have ever heard. She told us how she trains herself to write and how she's kept going over the long haul.<br /><i><br /></i><i>Pay attention.</i><br /><i>Be astonished.</i><br /><i>Write about it.</i><br /><br />These lines are imprinted on my course syllabus and I hope, give my students the sense that poetry is for all of us. They worry so much that they are not creative enough, that their vocabulary isn't as big as the universe. I try to tell them that they just have to enjoy; just have to have a conversation with themselves. I need to share more Mary Oliver with them.<br /><br />Here's a <a href="https://onbeing.org/programs/mary-oliver-listening-to-the-world-jan2019/?fbclid=IwAR1f8FTFqQce7dWQ1GC7k3OHU195juwW4daJsXTr_qBwcBQgpfcJqby1omY">recent interview</a> with Oliver that I read today. It's time to go out for a walk.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lz-EV3vCdFE/XEPAUfsrCII/AAAAAAAACBc/qk_2u2ZEuOkHkIitKCWPqorycAbqO0lmgCLcBGAs/s1600/Mary%2BOliver%2BOld.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="482" data-original-width="954" height="161" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lz-EV3vCdFE/XEPAUfsrCII/AAAAAAAACBc/qk_2u2ZEuOkHkIitKCWPqorycAbqO0lmgCLcBGAs/s320/Mary%2BOliver%2BOld.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />Susan Richhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11883699379179129887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-76471739248830811552019-01-06T20:44:00.000-08:002019-01-07T16:38:37.706-08:00Extended Outlook for 2019 - Tuxedo Cats, Sabbatical Look Back, and Happiness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xJuV-zzYpXs/XC767qCiC7I/AAAAAAAACAs/9d2su9Sl_GwpnQGBd85DA65t4Nj9ylhSACEwYBhgL/s1600/Watson%2B2018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1144" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xJuV-zzYpXs/XC767qCiC7I/AAAAAAAACAs/9d2su9Sl_GwpnQGBd85DA65t4Nj9ylhSACEwYBhgL/s320/Watson%2B2018.jpg" width="228" /></a></div><br /><br />My black and white tuxedo cat with milk-dipped paws is fast asleep in the other room. He is more interested in actions than in words with food coming in a close second. Poetry is pretty far down his list. Getting a job doesn't even enter his mind.<br /><br />Tomorrow I return to work after an extended break which had me writing full-time, traveling to Morocco, and generally feeling more myself. I exercised more, read more, ate healthier, and was a kinder friend and lover. My goal is to keep things going in this direction even as I enter back into the work world.<br /><br />Tonight this poem reminds me that even when time is short, I can take 5 minutes and watch the sky, study the Olympics outside my window and check out the morning bird population which changes daily. If you are a teacher or a professor, a student or colleague---may it all go well tomorrow.<br /><br /><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:Pages>1</o:Pages> <o:Words>42</o:Words> <o:Characters>240</o:Characters> <o:Company>Highline</o:Company> <o:Lines>2</o:Lines> <o:Paragraphs>1</o:Paragraphs> <o:CharactersWithSpaces>294</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:Version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings></xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument></xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles></xml><![endif]--><style><!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Baskerville; panose-1:2 2 5 2 7 4 1 2 3 3; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Lucida Grande"; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Baskerville; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Baskerville; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style><br />--&gt; <!--[if gte mso 10]><style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style><![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <!--EndFragment--><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: &quot;lucida grande&quot;; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: &quot;lucida grande&quot;; font-size: 11.5pt;">How I Would Paint Happiness</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;lucida grande&quot;; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">Something sudden, a windfall,</span><br /><span style="background: white;">a meteor shower. No—</span><br /><span style="background: white;">a flowering tree releasing</span><br /><span style="background: white;">all its blossoms at once,<br /></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;lucida grande&quot;; font-size: 11.5pt;">and the one standing beneath it</span><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: &quot;lucida grande&quot;; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;lucida grande&quot;; font-size: 11.5pt;">unexpectedly robed in bloom,</span><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: &quot;lucida grande&quot;; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;lucida grande&quot;; font-size: 11.5pt;">transformed into a stranger</span><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: &quot;lucida grande&quot;; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;lucida grande&quot;; font-size: 11.5pt;">too beautiful to touch.</span><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: &quot;lucida grande&quot;; font-size: 11.5pt;"><br /><br /></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;lucida grande&quot;; font-size: 11.5pt;">—Lisel Mueller, from “Imaginary Paintings.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m85erXZB8cw/XDLY1tWLsPI/AAAAAAAACBA/n0VCnUny-JQT4i88LOgSxbL-eWba7qrEwCLcBGAs/s1600/Happiness%2Bcopy1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="552" data-original-width="794" height="222" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m85erXZB8cw/XDLY1tWLsPI/AAAAAAAACBA/n0VCnUny-JQT4i88LOgSxbL-eWba7qrEwCLcBGAs/s320/Happiness%2Bcopy1.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br />Susan Richhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11883699379179129887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-87394569721737065462018-12-29T18:34:00.001-08:002018-12-29T18:34:23.981-08:00PBN for Blog Post Number One Thousand - 1,000<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WF1OK8rHGuI/XCglgfE02QI/AAAAAAAACAA/MIzik2BpwCAau6k5hKXMtO9mB8uFdG0TQCLcBGAs/s1600/Blogger%2BPatch.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="654" data-original-width="450" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WF1OK8rHGuI/XCglgfE02QI/AAAAAAAACAA/MIzik2BpwCAau6k5hKXMtO9mB8uFdG0TQCLcBGAs/s320/Blogger%2BPatch.png" width="220" /></a></div><br />I still remember walking across campus with my friend Stephanie as she explained to me about this new idea in the tech world: Blogging. Why would anyone choose to write journal entries that would be shared with the world? It was like leaving your journal on the bus or better yet, giving a stranger specific access to your thoughts. What a weird idea, I thought; it will never catch on I told her.<br /><br />And here I am in my <span style="color: #674ea7;">ninth year</span> of <span style="color: #674ea7;">Blogging</span> at <span style="color: #674ea7;">Blog Post Number 1,000. How did that happen?</span><br /><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;">The truth is, I do remember why I started. I wanted the casual and low stakes world that blogging provides. As a poet, it's too easy to fuss over each comma and semi-colon. I wanted to see what would happen if I published work that didn't need to be polished to a high sheen. I also had a very practical reason: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Alchemists-Kitchen-Susan-Rich/dp/1935210149/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&amp;ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1546135738&amp;sr=1-3&amp;keywords=the+alchemists+kitchen">The Alchemist's Kitchen</a>, my third book was about to be published and I had no idea how to publicize it. Friends of mine, <a href="https://ofkells.blogspot.com/">Kelli Russell Agodon</a> and <a href="http://poetmom.blogspot.com/">January O'Neil</a> had been blogging for years and finding real connection with other poets through the process. I thought I'd give it a try.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-18Lb5p7CBUk/XCgqo2aHgrI/AAAAAAAACAM/6kEa7pASPkIlKRkI_VdFmBOzWoqRywjbQCLcBGAs/s1600/Birthday%2BCake.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1140" data-original-width="1496" height="243" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-18Lb5p7CBUk/XCgqo2aHgrI/AAAAAAAACAM/6kEa7pASPkIlKRkI_VdFmBOzWoqRywjbQCLcBGAs/s320/Birthday%2BCake.png" width="320" /></a></div><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;">Blogging allowed me to connect with other poets and writers, many of us just becoming familiar with this thing called Publicity. We did virtual poetry tours interviewing each other when our books came out and sharing poems that we loved from dead mentor poets (Elizabeth Bishop, Denise Levertov) as well as from work just appearing in journals. We wrote articles on how to organize a poetry reading for optimum success and shared information on favorite writing retreats. In other words, we were creating a network of poets who were neither academics or poet rockstars --- anyone with access to a laptop, with access to a library was invited to the party.</span><br /><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;">It still fills me with absolute delight to receive comments on a post or notice that I have readers in India or Ireland. And while it is true that I am no longer a seven-day-a-week blogger as I was in the beginning, blogging is still something I believe in and enjoy. How else am I going to share a new poem or poet with hundreds or thousands (usually hundreds) of people at once.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;">And for a poem that surprises me each time, which seems just right for the holiday season I offer you</span><br /><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;"><a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2018/05/28/eggplant">Eggplant </a>by Peter Balakian, originally published in the New Yorker and at the moment posted on my refrigerator with a magnet from Slovenia.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><br />I loved the white moon circles<br />and the purple halos,<br /><br />on a plate as the salt sweat them.<br /><br />The oil in the pan smoked like bad<br />days in the Syrian desert—<br /><br />when a moon stayed all day—<br /><br />when morning was a purple<br />elegy for the last friend seen—<br /><br />when the fog of the riverbank<br />rose like a holy ghost.<br /><br />My mother made those white moons sizzle<br />in some egg wash and salt—<br /><br />some parsley appeared&nbsp; &nbsp; to continue reading <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2018/05/28/eggplant">click here---</a><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;">Until next time and blog post 1001...</span>Susan Richhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11883699379179129887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-50949993014240070572018-12-15T19:38:00.000-08:002018-12-15T19:41:14.169-08:00Celebrating Groundhog Day with Poetry~South Lake Union<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wcOXUcmb7io/XBXCqnByJpI/AAAAAAAAB_g/NNUHDDO39AEjBxr_aoPvATUvuMgqt4qDgCLcBGAs/s1600/Groundhogs%2521.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="1552" height="221" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wcOXUcmb7io/XBXCqnByJpI/AAAAAAAAB_g/NNUHDDO39AEjBxr_aoPvATUvuMgqt4qDgCLcBGAs/s320/Groundhogs%2521.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Groundhogs listening to poetry in February</td></tr></tbody></table><a href="https://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/02/01/groundhog-day-a-history-a_n_441000.html">Groundhog Day</a> is a holiday that I love to celebrate. My only question used to be how? Now there's an answer. This year Kelli Russell Agodon and I will be leading a one-day poetry&nbsp;<a href="http://poetsonthecoast.weebly.com/mini-retreat.html">Mini Retreat</a> in Seattle whether these critters see their shadows or not.<br /><br />One of the wonderful things about Seattle winters is that by February, they are almost over. The Daphne in my garden will be in full bloom as will the early blossoming cherry trees one yard over. If you want a weekend getaway in February, Seattle might be just the place!<br /><br />This is our 7th year offering a generative workshop in the morning and a special topics salon in the afternoon. These workshops are organized for everyone from the beginning writer to the well published poet. Each year the mix is diverse and energizing.<br /><br />For 5 Interesting Facts on Ground Hog Day, <a href="https://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/02/01/groundhog-day-a-history-a_n_441000.html">click here.</a><br /><br /><strong style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #24678d;">Saturday, February 2, 2019</span></span></strong><br /><strong style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: #3387a2; font-size: medium;"><em style="position: relative;">South Lake Union, Seattle</em></span></strong><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><strong style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><em style="position: relative;"><span style="color: #da4444; font-size: medium;">NEW!</span></em>&nbsp;​&nbsp;&nbsp;<span style="color: #2a2a2a;">Generating New Poems:</span></strong><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><strong>10 am – 1&nbsp; pm</strong></span><br /><br /><strong style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">The Seattle Renaissance: Generating Poems in the New Poetic Climate&nbsp;&nbsp;</strong><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">10 - 1 pm&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Seattle is experiencing an incredible poetry renaissance; let’s be part of the new surge of energy! We will spend the morning drafting pieces from a variety of new prompts. You will leave with the start of 5-7 new poems. Creativity and generosity abound!</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">&nbsp;</span><strong style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">$112</span></strong><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><strong style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><em style="position: relative;"><span style="color: #da4444; font-size: medium;">NEW!</span></em>&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;<span style="color: #2a2a2a;">Thinking About the Next Book</span><br /><br />Demystifying the Manuscript: Some Assembly Required&nbsp;</strong><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">&nbsp;2 – 4 pm.&nbsp;This hands-on class includes several new strategies for organizing a book of poems based on the initial chapters of our new craft book! You will leave with new ideas for your title, section ordering (or not) and a free prepublication chapter to take-home. Book salon with your concerns answered also included.&nbsp;</span><br /><strong style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">$112</span></strong><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><strong style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-size: large;">Or let's spend the day together, you can take both classes for a discounted<br />​$196 total</span></strong><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><em style="position: relative;">Number of participants limited&nbsp;</em></span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">NOTE: Once you are registered, you will receive an email within 48 hours of confirmation of your payment as well as a note of what to bring and directions to the retreat (which is served by public transportation and lots of parking) in the South Lake Union neighborhood. Hope to see you there!</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">____________________________</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">​</span><br /><strong style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Lato-light, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">TO PAY BY CHECK:</span></strong><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #2a2a2a;">Send a check for $112 or $196 to:</span><br /><span style="color: #2a2a2a;">Kelli Agodon / Mini Retreat</span><br /><span style="color: #2a2a2a;">PO Box 1524</span><br /><span style="color: #2a2a2a;">Kingston, WA 98346</span></span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #2a2a2a;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #2a2a2a;">To pay with PayPal and for more information please checkout our <a href="http://poetsonthecoast.weebly.com/mini-retreat.html">website</a>.&nbsp;</span></span>Susan Richhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11883699379179129887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-66732958012284913902018-12-13T10:12:00.002-08:002018-12-13T10:12:16.427-08:00Best Holiday Present for Poets: Rewilding by January Gill O'Neil<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C_3uRMSB3LM/XBGNZXfmtkI/AAAAAAAAB_E/uefqRHeE4jUkwOjmLIaiqb9xDb60dtLDwCLcBGAs/s1600/JanuaryO%2Bold%2Bsouth.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1155" data-original-width="1600" height="231" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C_3uRMSB3LM/XBGNZXfmtkI/AAAAAAAAB_E/uefqRHeE4jUkwOjmLIaiqb9xDb60dtLDwCLcBGAs/s320/JanuaryO%2Bold%2Bsouth.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">January Gil O'Neil reading at the Old South Church, Boston</td></tr></tbody></table>Two years ago, I wrote a post overflowing with admiration for a January Gil O'Neil poem and then added a prompt to go with it <a href="https://thealchemistskitchen.blogspot.com/2016/09/michelle-obama-poem-i-keep-thinking.html">on this site.&nbsp;</a>&nbsp;What unmitigated joy to see this same poem in the brand new pages of <a href="https://cavankerrypress.org/product/rewilding/">Rewilding,</a> just out from&nbsp;<a href="https://cavankerrypress.org/product/rewilding/">Cavaan Kerry Press</a>.<br /><br />If Sharon Olds and Robert Hayden had a love child, I think it would be January O'Neil. She employs the smooth, shiny surface of a Sharon Olds poem with the more emotionally nuanced and extended outlook of poet Robert Hayden (think "Water Lillies" and "Those Winter Sundays"). Here are two poems so you can decide for yourself.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w20QRs_vCVk/XBGX_R3CKPI/AAAAAAAAB_Q/e5MmshiH8yYBsuUGEXBsgIzlKGW-exyiACLcBGAs/s1600/Jan%2Band%2BBook.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1204" data-original-width="1496" height="257" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w20QRs_vCVk/XBGX_R3CKPI/AAAAAAAAB_Q/e5MmshiH8yYBsuUGEXBsgIzlKGW-exyiACLcBGAs/s320/Jan%2Band%2BBook.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Now on sale at Cavaan Kerry Press</td></tr></tbody></table><b><br /><br />On Being Told I Look Like FLOTUS, New Year's Eve Party 2016</b><div><br />Deep in my biceps I know it’s a complement, just as<br />I know this is an all-black-people-look-alike moment.<br />So I use the minimal amount of muscles to crack a smile.<br />All night he catches sight of me, or someone like me, standing<br />next to deconstructed cannoli and empty bottles of Prosecco.<br />And in that moment, I understand how little right any of us have<br />to be whoever we are—the constant tension<br />of making our way in this world on hope and change.<br />You’re working your muscles to the point of failure,<br />Michelle Obama once said about her workout regimen, <br />but she knows we wear our history in our darkness, in our patience.<br />A compliment is a complement—this I know, just as the clock<br />will always strike midnight and history repeats. This is how<br />I can wake up the next morning and love the world again.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><b>Hoodie</b><br /><br /><br />A gray hoodie will not protect my son</div><div>from rain, from the New England cold.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I see the partial eclipse of his face&nbsp;</div><div>as his head sinks into the half-dark&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>and shades his eyes. Even in our</div><div>quiet suburb with its unlocked doors,&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I fear for his safety—the darkest child&nbsp;</div><div>on our street in the empire of blocks.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes I don’t know who he is anymore&nbsp;</div><div>traveling the back roads between boy and man.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>He strides a deep stride, pounds a basketball&nbsp;</div><div>into wet pavement. Will he take his shot&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>or is he waiting for the open-mouthed&nbsp;</div><div>orange rim to take a chance on him?&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I sing his name to the night, ask for safe passage&nbsp;</div><div>from this borrowed body into the next&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>and wonder who could mistake him&nbsp;</div><div>for anything but good.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://cavankerrypress.org/product/rewilding/">Rewilding</a> is on sale this week at <a href="https://cavankerrypress.org/product/rewilding/">Cavaan Kerry Press</a>. It's the best present of the season.<br /><br /><b><br />January Gill O’Neil</b> is the author of Misery Islands and Underlife, published by CavanKerry Press. She is the executive director of the Massachusetts Poetry Festival, an assistant professor of English at Salem State University, and a board of trustees’ member with the Association of Writers and Writing Programs (AWP) and Montserrat College of Art. A Cave Canem fellow, January’s poems and articles have appeared in the Academy of American Poet’s Poem-A-Day series, American Poetry Review, New England Review, and Ploughshares, among others. In 2018, January was awarded a Massachusetts Cultural Council grant, and is the John and Renée Grisham Writer in Residence for 2019-2020 at the University of Mississippi, Oxford. She lives with her two children in Beverly, Massachusetts.<br /><br /><br /></div>Susan Richhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11883699379179129887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-70052371914002435562018-12-06T07:00:00.000-08:002018-12-06T20:36:35.737-08:00The Joy of a Do-It-Yourself Writing Retreat<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_2IaNbKCX-M/XAi9sd4S1EI/AAAAAAAAApA/HLB70RP_LRUDdBXPZXCfNkkCiVSsrJP1gCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1427" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_2IaNbKCX-M/XAi9sd4S1EI/AAAAAAAAApA/HLB70RP_LRUDdBXPZXCfNkkCiVSsrJP1gCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1319.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fresh tulips is a favorite way to treat myself&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table>A friend just texted me that she is on her way to her own do-it-herself writing retreat. She rented an air b &amp; b by the water and was happily anticipating writing for the next week. So is a self-generated retreat as good as one those that some organization awards you?<br /><br />Yes, maybe better.<br /><br />I have been "awarded" several lovely writing retreats across the country and even internationally (Ireland, Spain) and I have "awarded" myself many self-generated retreats as well. In recent years I have chosen the do-it-yourself type. Here's why:<br /><br />1. At my own writing retreat there's no social pressure to have dinner with the group at 6:00 pm. I am my own group. If I am really working than I can simply keep going. I am not tied to a schedule. At one writing retreat I attended we were expected to show-up at the same time for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It didn't leave much time for deep contemplation.<br /><br />2. At my retreat, I claim the best room! Place is important to me. I love a room with a view, most preferably, of water. I can choose the exact location of where I want to be. Usually, I choose a place that's an easy day's drive from my house. I can throw everything I might need into my car (favorite pillow, coffee cup, yoga mat...) and not have to worry about airports or luggage constraints.<br /><br />3. My retreat allows for no awkward social interactions. I don't have to worry about the resident on the verge of a nervous break down or listen to the resident at dinner who never stops talking (or singing or crying). This might sound a little harsh but at a residency, my only job is to write and to read and to dream. When I am on retreat by myself I usually can spare myself a good deal of drama.<br /><br />4. Here I am the only one responsible for my happiness. I'll be honest, some days the writing sucks and I really just want to go back to bed. Am I wasting my day trying to get words down on paper? For every three words that I write, I cross out at least two. But there are other days when something magical happens --- and most times --- I get one day of struggle to one day of magic. I have to show-up and be present for both. It's up to me to find my own rhythm. No distractions.<br /><br />5. The false gods are gone! Too many times I've heard dear writer friends lament not getting into a residency that they've set their hearts on. And the not getting in becomes symbolic of something much larger in their minds.<br /><br />Yikes---that's so many different kinds of wrong. I've been part of several editorial boards for residency programs, book awards, etc. And here is the truth: The "winning" writers are luckier --- that's all! Their work matches the tastes of the readers / evaluators. I once worked with another judge who discounted all applicants that were academics (why do they need more time off for a residency was her view). The writer could have been the next Sylvia Plath but if she was an academic, nothing else mattered.<br /><br />Now in my 50's I've learned that life is so horribly short. I don't want to give anyone else the power to decide if I am going to take the time and space to do my writing. No one should have that much power. My advice to you is rent a cheap hotel room in Vegas (yes, writers do this!) or find a modest beach house --- but give yourself this time out of time. A writing retreat is not a privilege as much as it is a necessity for getting deep work done.<br /><br />And with winter coming, the off-season rates are here. Take a look. Right now.<br /><br />Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-48573885782162997522018-12-03T17:52:00.000-08:002018-12-03T22:40:23.163-08:00Simples: The Joy of Reading KateLynn Hibbard's New Book<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://hibbarka.files.wordpress.com/2018/02/katelynn-hibbard-portrait.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="272" src="https://hibbarka.files.wordpress.com/2018/02/katelynn-hibbard-portrait.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate lyn Hibbard, Poet and Professor</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">I have been a huge fan of <a href="https://katelynnhibbard.com/bio/">Kate lyn Hibbard's</a> work since her first book, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1878851241/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i0">Sleeping Upside Down</a>, was published in 2006. She followed this up with her luscious collection, Sweet Weight. And now, after way too many years, her third full length collection, <a href="https://katelynnhibbard.com/tag/simples/">Simples,</a>&nbsp; published by <a href="http://engage.augsburg.edu/howlingbird/2018/10/04/katelynn-hibbard-reads-at-twin-cities-book-festival-october-13/">Howling Bird Press</a> has just been released --- a haunting collection of&nbsp;<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">historical poetry inspired by women’s experiences living on the Great Plains frontier.&nbsp;</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><b>This is a book you do not want to miss.</b> And while the music of the lines allows you to feel you are floating across the page, there is also true pathos in the work. Hibbard time travels through the Great Plains employing a variety of personas: healer, teacher, locust swarm and Jewish bride-to-be. In a lesser poet's hands these characters might seem contrived but not in Hibbard's.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><i>Trees bowed over with the weight of them and they ate---</i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><i>the tall grass the wheat the corn the sunflowers</i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><i>the oats the barley the buckwheat the bark&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;</i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><i>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><i>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; (from Swarm)&nbsp;</i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><i><br /></i></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">The poems accrue and create a dreamscape of life where the work is unrelenting and the landscape both awe inspiring and cruel. Hibbard's background in Women's Studies (both as a poet and a scholar) is integral to this project. The End Notes allow the reader to understand a time period and landscape that some of us, myself included, may have little experience with and yet the poems transport us:</span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>White cambric petticoat torn from a gown,</i></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>White lace refinement on tarpaper walls,</i></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>Fashioned from newspaper, cheesecloth, and sheets,</i></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>Cut out from calico, brightened with ribbon,</i></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp;</i></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;(from Curtains)</i></span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">A variety of traditional and received forms create a collage effect that keeps the collection constantly surprising in the best way. Hibbard is a lyrical private detective conjuring the lives of women whose struggles and joys are largely unknown (at least to this reader).</span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">And because many of the poems work in sequences and I dislike excerpting poems so, here is one poem in its entirety.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>Orthography, 1895</i></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>Before we came to Kansas girls like me</i></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>had to fein being vain. I spend all day</i></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>on the claim, drive horses like a teamster.</i></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>Miss Sims says my prospects have been razed, but</i></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>this place is in my veins. I'm up before&nbsp;</i></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>the sun's rays pass the weather vane, feign to beat</i></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>any man at my trade. When harvest</i></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>keeps me from Sabbath, the fields are my fane.</i></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I love this poem, maybe more importantly, I believe this poem.&nbsp;</span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><a href="http://engage.augsburg.edu/howlingbird/2018/10/04/katelynn-hibbard-reads-at-twin-cities-book-festival-october-13/">Simples</a> opens up and complicates the lives of these women with new narratives focused on the female body and delivered in voices that are strong, varied, and nuanced.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">And because we notice these things but often they go unsaid, <i>Simples</i> also has a gorgeous cover.&nbsp;</span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Treat the poet in your life, treat yourself.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4O0NQr4xwN0/XAXdpztKSmI/AAAAAAAAAos/i8ltKKAB1cAt_zGwakDzVRh65G2tfx4uQCLcBGAs/s1600/Screenshot%2B2018-12-03%2B17.50.16.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1131" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4O0NQr4xwN0/XAXdpztKSmI/AAAAAAAAAos/i8ltKKAB1cAt_zGwakDzVRh65G2tfx4uQCLcBGAs/s320/Screenshot%2B2018-12-03%2B17.50.16.png" width="226" /></a></div>Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-2538376500793430902018-11-22T12:31:00.001-08:002018-11-22T12:31:28.082-08:00Thanksgiving Poem For the Ages, Especially Today<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rNBxaLNrfDU/W_cR3bbD8mI/AAAAAAAAAn8/_v-YDcKynNY1WGNyUewYlj8-N36kQM21gCLcBGAs/s1600/Ice%2BBubble%2BHotel.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="937" data-original-width="1600" height="187" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rNBxaLNrfDU/W_cR3bbD8mI/AAAAAAAAAn8/_v-YDcKynNY1WGNyUewYlj8-N36kQM21gCLcBGAs/s320/Ice%2BBubble%2BHotel.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ice Bubble Hotel in Iceland</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I love how this poem shifts from awe, to what is awful, to what is benign, to what is all around us. Somehow, in magical Merwin fashion, this poem feels as if it were written right here, right now.<br /><br />You can read more about W.S. Merwin and his poem "Thanks" by going to the <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57937/thanks?fbclid=IwAR2Fx7tQhv-3oalzGR4Nmtl4PhbfhOl0DaNZXPiWnZseAbmjFgrkiNFp_jo">Poetry Foundation </a>website or you can simply read his poem here, now.<br /><br /><div class="c-feature-hd" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: adobe-garamond-pro; font-size: 22px; margin: 0px 0px 4px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><h1 class="c-hdgSans c-hdgSans_2 c-mix-hdgSans_inline" style="border: 0px; display: inline; font-family: canada-type-gibson; font-size: 1.75rem; font-style: inherit; line-height: 1.231; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Thanks</h1></div><div class="c-feature-sub c-feature-sub_vast" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: adobe-garamond-pro; font-size: 22px; margin: 0px 0px 33px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="c-txt c-txt_attribution" style="border: 0px; color: #494949; display: inline-block; font-family: canada-type-gibson; font-size: 0.875rem; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; letter-spacing: 1.4px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-transform: uppercase; vertical-align: baseline;">BY&nbsp;<a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/w-s-merwin" style="border: 0px; color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; transition: color 250ms cubic-bezier(0.215, 0.61, 0.355, 1) 0s; vertical-align: baseline;">W. S. MERWIN</a></span></div></div>Listen<br /><br />with the night falling we are saying thank you<br /><br />we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings<br /><br />we are running out of the glass rooms<br /><br />with our mouths full of food to look at the sky<br /><br />and say thank you<br /><br />we are standing by the water thanking it<br /><br />standing by the windows looking out<br /><br />in our directions<br /><br /><br /><br />back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging<br /><br />after funerals we are saying thank you<br /><br />after the news of the dead<br /><br />whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you<br /><br /><br /><br />over telephones we are saying thank you<br /><br />in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators<br /><br />remembering wars and the police at the door<br /><br />and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you<br /><br />in the banks we are saying thank you<br /><br />in the faces of the officials and the rich<br /><br />and of all who will never change<br /><br />we go on saying thank you thank you<br /><br /><br /><br />with the animals dying around us<br /><br />taking our feelings we are saying thank you<br /><br />with the forests falling faster than the minutes<br /><br />of our lives we are saying thank you<br /><br />with the words going out like cells of a brain<br /><br />with the cities growing over us<br /><br />we are saying thank you faster and faster<br /><br />with nobody listening we are saying thank you<br /><br />thank you we are saying and waving<br /><br />dark though it is<br />Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-78085895175592596022018-11-19T21:13:00.001-08:002018-11-19T21:13:11.339-08:00Auberge Ayouze Near Asfalou in the High Atlas, Morocco<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9HWkuxnA4CE/W_NnuddwrUI/AAAAAAAAAmw/UXvgvc1movotQEHCyQ5Ql9vt_POFLwjggCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0990.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9HWkuxnA4CE/W_NnuddwrUI/AAAAAAAAAmw/UXvgvc1movotQEHCyQ5Ql9vt_POFLwjggCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_0990.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />There are several more appropriate places to begin a story of beauty than in the bathroom but this isn't just any bathroom! This rose-colored space has a view of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atlas_Mountains">Atlas Mountains</a> which you can see as you shower. The photograph looks more like a still life painting than it does a literal place to wash the body. For me, this image also calls up a sense of wonder and re-seeing of the simple life which is what <a href="http://www.auberge-ayouze.com/hotel-ouarzazte.php">Auberge Ayouze</a> is all about. "Enjoy your life" is the phrase that Idriss, the innkeeper, repeats to me often. He suggests watching the sunrise over the mountains from my terrace. And so the next morning, wrapped in a blanket, I do.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jJCIurICb7U/W_N_zIX2xXI/AAAAAAAAAno/D9LotIAL5vcFfR6wVz_DPdZikE77imNKwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0987.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jJCIurICb7U/W_N_zIX2xXI/AAAAAAAAAno/D9LotIAL5vcFfR6wVz_DPdZikE77imNKwCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_0987.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br />Watching the sun is a slow, meditative process. At first I am checking my watch, <i>hurry up sunrise! </i>And finally I relax into the morning. The star studded night sky gives way ever so slowly to the light. I watch groups of women make their way down to the olive groves.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m_G2xOJpx4M/W_NoEBL4lNI/AAAAAAAAAm4/dYhyhn1KAbUGuRtCqLWveoet8nOrQCrbgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m_G2xOJpx4M/W_NoEBL4lNI/AAAAAAAAAm4/dYhyhn1KAbUGuRtCqLWveoet8nOrQCrbgCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1009.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />This is the region where <i>Lawrence of Arabia</i> was filmed and more recently, three episodes of <i>Game of Thrones.</i> Take away the satellite dishes and cell towers, the world here has not changed much in centuries. I know that's a simplification of the life I saw only peripherally --- the marketplaces, the kasbah, the public baths.<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Iy15M7oGAcM/W_NoK6oqbwI/AAAAAAAAAm8/pmhJ3ZMZt7ElEaIJEi4XWlHfnHPgBJ-fACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Iy15M7oGAcM/W_NoK6oqbwI/AAAAAAAAAm8/pmhJ3ZMZt7ElEaIJEi4XWlHfnHPgBJ-fACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1003.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />I listen to the women sing as they work together harvesting the olives in the olive groves. You can hear then shaking the tree branches. Across the road from the <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/Hotel_Review-g304011-d1898731-Reviews-Auberge_Ayouze-Ait_Ben_Haddou_Souss_Massa_Draa_Region.html">auberge</a>, I walk down the path to the river. When we return, breakfast is served on the upper terrace. Fresh squeezed orange juice and strong espresso, local dates and warm crepes, a selection of jams and cheese.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dAUZQKROPjU/W_No3vCOpWI/AAAAAAAAAnM/LUvGAEGtEU8P7LthQwdkhlyjyKIBXyjLwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dAUZQKROPjU/W_No3vCOpWI/AAAAAAAAAnM/LUvGAEGtEU8P7LthQwdkhlyjyKIBXyjLwCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1085.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />Before we leave, we drive to Teleouet with Jasmine and Idriss. We see the palace of the pasha and outside of it, the Jewish village which is now a ghost town. The royal movie theater is now closed but Mohamed, our guide, tells us Charlie Chaplin visited here and played golf with the pasha.<br /><br />While in Morocco we have practiced yoga daily, we have met spice merchants and woodworkers in the souks of Marrakesh and strolled the Marjorelle gardens but nothing compares to our time in the High Atlas at <a href="http://www.auberge-ayouze.com/">Auberge Ayouze</a> where Berber lives and American lives so easily intertwined. You will find the Auberge in a bend in the road halfway between Assfalou and Ait Benhaddou. Climb the stairs to the terrace and there a new way of life awaits you.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-70025659168093930962018-11-17T12:56:00.000-08:002018-11-17T12:56:31.122-08:00It Took Too Long To Write This Experience In a Poem<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dQJ8pZKOZDE/W9opomAJ6CI/AAAAAAAAAmM/T2mzsltuYqouDMNJGdsC4VQE0WbeLX57gCLcBGAs/s1600/Screenshot%2B2018-10-31%2B15.15.04.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1404" data-original-width="1202" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dQJ8pZKOZDE/W9opomAJ6CI/AAAAAAAAAmM/T2mzsltuYqouDMNJGdsC4VQE0WbeLX57gCLcBGAs/s320/Screenshot%2B2018-10-31%2B15.15.04.png" width="273" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Young Woman with Mandolin by Harrington Mann</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It has taken too long. Too long for so many things to come to light. Here is a recent poem that takes "inspiration" from a core event that happened over thirty years ago. Thank you so much to Jordan Hart and <a href="http://www.kahini.org/arborist-abortionist/">Kahini Magazine</a> for publishing this in their November issue. And for the writers among us,<br /><a href="http://www.kahini.org/arborist-abortionist/">Kahini Magazine</a> is a paying market for both poetry and fiction.<br /><br /><br />Arborist / Abortionist<br /><br /><br />by Susan Rich<br /><a href="http://kahini.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/Untitled.png"><img src="http://kahini.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/Untitled.png" /></a><br /><br />Procured by anxious relatives<br />who demanded<br /><br />a disappearing trick—<br /><br />prepaid like a surcharge<br />for yard work done in the off-season:<br /><br />his steel tool severing<br /><br />a quirk of a tree limb,<br />attached to the nub of a stubborn bud;<br /><br />he didn’t question<br />how I appeared,<br /><br />transplanted into his waiting room—<br /><br />never inquired as to the coauthor<br />of my infinitesimal text—<br /><br />although he’d memorized its map;<br /><br />extracted the troublesome little branch<br />that obscured the golden overlook,<br /><br />and restored the river view.Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-33387419806830267372018-10-17T13:22:00.002-07:002018-10-17T16:21:24.461-07:00The Joy of Poetry (That Swings Both Ways) Academy of American Poets, Practicing Poet, and the Southern Review<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P_0vOXwGfsU/W8eLKnlihmI/AAAAAAAAAlc/ISbJB5wyG6EWCXBCqVfYpXMwseA_uSkkgCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-10-17%2Bat%2B12.18.16%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1108" data-original-width="1350" height="262" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P_0vOXwGfsU/W8eLKnlihmI/AAAAAAAAAlc/ISbJB5wyG6EWCXBCqVfYpXMwseA_uSkkgCLcBGAs/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-10-17%2Bat%2B12.18.16%2BPM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reading Woman in Violet Dress - Matisse, 1892</td></tr></tbody></table>I wonder if Henri Matisse ever imagined that his paintings would travel around the world with the choice click of a few keys? The internet is known for many things --- but access to the arts is not one I hear of very often.<br /><br />This summer I was wildly honored to have my poem <a href="https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/new-journal">"To The New Journal"</a> published in the Summer 2018 Issue of the <a href="https://thesouthernreview.org/issues/latest">Southern Review.</a>&nbsp;This is the third time I've been published in <a href="https://thesouthernreview.org/issues/latest">SR</a> and I am a true fan of both the words and the visual art that they publish. Their editors are professional, kind, and smart. But there's one thing.<br /><br />The Southern Review doesn't feature much work on their website and so once the physical object of the journal is read and put on the shelf (and maybe tossed from libraries at a later date) most of the poems and prose are gone. Enter the <a href="https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/browse-poems-poets">Academy of American Poets</a> with a new project: to showcase more poems on their website. Through an agreement with the Southern Review and Tin House, poems that were published in these print journals may now have a forever home as part of the Academy's curated collection. This is the reason I can share <a href="https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/new-journal">"To the New Journal"</a> with you.<br />.<br />Much like the <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets">Poetry Foundation</a> website, the <a href="https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/browse-poems-poets">Academy of American Poets</a> website seeks to provide an essential resources of poems, essays on poetry, poet bios, and lesson plans to anyone who is interested. Need a poem to read for a wedding or for a divorce? These websites can help! Teaching a poet and want to bring their voice into the classroom? These are great sites to access.<br /><br />However, sometimes poems swing the other way: from the worldwide ether onto the printed pages of a book. My poem, <a href="https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/boketto">"Boketto"</a> based on the Japanese word which loosely translates to, to stare into space with no purpose, appeared on the Academy of American Poets site two years ago. This month, "Boketto" stars in the new "must have" craft book, <a href="https://www.terrapinbooks.com/the-practicing-poet-writing-beyond-the-basics.html">The Practicing Poet, Writing Beyond the Basics</a>, by editor, poet, and publisher extraordinaire,&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="http://www.dianelockward.com/">Diane Lockward</a>.<br /><br />Diane contacted me and asked for permission to reprint <a href="https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/boketto">"Boketto"</a> in her newest anthology / craft book (this is her third and each one is worth owning) and I happily agreed. In <a href="https://www.terrapinbooks.com/the-practicing-poet-writing-beyond-the-basics.html">The Practicing Poet</a>, Diane has created a prompt for a "weird word poem" based on my work. She has also done an explication of the poem that showed she had read the work carefully noticing the focus on double-barreled words and chiasmus (and no, I didn't know the word <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chiasmus">chiasmus</a> before yesterday) but I like it and it describes a key strategy of the poem.<br /><br />So this month I get to swing both ways: page poems onto the web and web poems onto new pages. I'm feeling very lucky indeed.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p50FWDKhhqQ/W8eZ__hUnGI/AAAAAAAAAlw/Gr9QryXTe00LSlnA5cLzkRqVRItAUceSwCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-10-17%2Bat%2B1.21.50%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1122" data-original-width="738" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p50FWDKhhqQ/W8eZ__hUnGI/AAAAAAAAAlw/Gr9QryXTe00LSlnA5cLzkRqVRItAUceSwCLcBGAs/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-10-17%2Bat%2B1.21.50%2BPM.png" width="210" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-18697125553808274052018-09-30T12:48:00.001-07:002018-09-30T15:07:01.585-07:00Two Poems for Right Now<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/--z1h8Zq8VLs/W7EeLw0aR7I/AAAAAAAAAkc/HizbdpDxFP8OfK1dKVWqOHQd2S-BqTWFwCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-09-30%2Bat%2B12.03.21%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1270" data-original-width="1120" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/--z1h8Zq8VLs/W7EeLw0aR7I/AAAAAAAAAkc/HizbdpDxFP8OfK1dKVWqOHQd2S-BqTWFwCLcBGAs/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-09-30%2Bat%2B12.03.21%2BPM.png" width="282" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset over Potato Fields, Monday at Harmony Fields</td></tr></tbody></table>I took this photograph six days ago ago at <a href="https://harmonyfields.com/">Harmony Fields</a>, yet so much has changed since then that I hardly recognize that it hasn't even been a week: this was before Dr. Blasey-Ford's testimony, before two brave women, Maria Gallagher and Ana Maria Archila, confronted Senator Flake (R-AZ) in an elevator and before he changed the course of history --- at least for one week; we hope for more.<br /><br /><a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/58816/blessing-the-boats">Lucillle Clifton</a> and <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/51092/what-kind-of-times-are-these">Adrienne Rich</a> are two important poets for me (for American poetry) that I return to again and again. The day after the 2016 election I shared the Clifton poem with my Highline College students. I'll never forget one young man sitting with this poem and then articulating his thoughts and ideas about it beyond anything he had done in class before. He illuminated the levels of this piece for me, for the entire class, in a new and necessary way. He brought in the idea of immigration, the trip many of my students have taken in boats, in braving a new world. I share these pieces now as a way to hold onto sanity in this new insane time. May they be of help to you, too.<br /><br /><b><br /></b><b>blessing the boats</b><br /><b><br /></b>BY <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/lucille-clifton">LUCILLE CLIFTON</a><br /><br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;(at St. Mary's)<br /><div><br /></div><div>may the tide</div><div>that is entering even now</div><div>the lip of our understanding</div><div>carry you out</div><div>beyond the face of fear</div><div>may you kiss</div><div>the wind then turn from it</div><div>certain that it will</div><div>love your back may you</div><div>open your eyes to water</div><div>water waving forever</div><div>and may you in your innocence</div><div>sail through this to that<br /><div><br /></div><div><div class="c-feature-hd" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 22px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 4px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><b>What Kind of Times Are These</b></div><div><b><br /></b>BY <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/adrienne-rich">ADRIENNE RICH</a></div><div><br /><div class="c-feature-bd" style="border: 0px; line-height: 1.3; margin: 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="o-poem isActive" data-view="PoemView" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;">There's a place between two stands of trees where the grass grows uphill<br />and the old revolutionary road breaks off into shadows<br />near a meeting-house abandoned by the persecuted<br />who disappeared into those shadows.<br /><br />I've walked there picking mushrooms at the edge of dread, but don't be fooled<br />this isn't a Russian poem, this is not somewhere else but here,<br />our country moving closer to its own truth and dread,<br />its own ways of making people disappear.</div><div class="o-poem isActive" data-view="PoemView" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="o-poem isActive" data-view="PoemView" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">I</span></span> won't tell you where the place is, the dark mesh of the woods</div><div class="o-poem isActive" data-view="PoemView" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;">meeting the unmarked strip of light—</div><div class="o-poem isActive" data-view="PoemView" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;">ghost-ridden crossroads, leafmold paradise:</div><div class="o-poem isActive" data-view="PoemView" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;">I know already who wants to buy it, sell it, make it disappear.</div><div class="o-poem isActive" data-view="PoemView" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><div class="o-poem isActive" data-view="PoemView" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;">And I won't tell you where it is, so why do I tell you</div><div class="o-poem isActive" data-view="PoemView" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;">anything? Because you still listen, because in times like these</div><div class="o-poem isActive" data-view="PoemView" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;">to have you listen at all, it's necessary</div><div class="o-poem isActive" data-view="PoemView" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;">to talk about trees.<br /><div style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 1em; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div></div></div></div></div>Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-67920140858446045982018-09-20T20:10:00.003-07:002018-09-20T20:13:48.144-07:00Such a Good Mix: The Poetry of Travel and the Travel of Poetry<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gL51Aov4alI/W6RPe2jKBwI/AAAAAAAAAj4/5hMbbeSYB-wqkl4QVDfaFEtf-ITAwDjFgCLcBGAs/s1600/cats%2Bin%2Bmorocco.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="1000" height="213" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gL51Aov4alI/W6RPe2jKBwI/AAAAAAAAAj4/5hMbbeSYB-wqkl4QVDfaFEtf-ITAwDjFgCLcBGAs/s320/cats%2Bin%2Bmorocco.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Calico Cats in Morocco's Blue City: Chefchaouen<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">I love poetry and I love travel. When the two join together, it feels like my life makes sense. All day I've been thinking about my favorite poems concerning travel for a class I'm teaching this weekend at a beautiful family farm in Bow-Edison, <a href="https://harmonyfields.com/about-the-farm/">Harmony Fields</a>.&nbsp;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">For about 20 years I kept this one poem in my wallet. Then it lived on a bulletin board in my office&nbsp; and recently, it migrated to the kitchen. I like that it's been with me since December 1994. I think this was my first year subscribing to the <i><a href="https://www.newyorker.com/">New Yorker Magazine</a></i>. I had just let my apartment in Harvard Square for the wilds of the Pacific Northwest for graduate school. I missed the grit of the Boston accent, the cold stare of strangers, the bookstores.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: small;">This poem spoke to me --- my decade plus of living faraway in Africa, Europe, and working in the Arab world. More than two years away from the US, I entered New York via JFK only to have the customs officer question if I was making up the country of Niger. He was angry with me for coming from a place he didn't know.&nbsp;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Seamus Heaney never included this in any of his books. I don't know why but I suspect that perhaps it was too internal, so common and uncommon at once. See what you think.&nbsp;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:Pages>1</o:Pages> <o:Words>62</o:Words> <o:Characters>356</o:Characters> <o:Company>Highline</o:Company> <o:Lines>2</o:Lines> <o:Paragraphs>1</o:Paragraphs> <o:CharactersWithSpaces>437</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:Version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings></xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument></xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles></xml><![endif]--><style><!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; 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mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style><![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <br /><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: &quot;garamond&quot;;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: &quot;garamond&quot;;">Far Away<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;garamond&quot;;">When I answered that I came from “far away”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;garamond&quot;;">The policeman at the roadblock snapped “where’s that”?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;garamond&quot;;">He’d only half heard what I said and thought<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;garamond&quot;;">It was the name of some place up the country.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;garamond&quot;;">And now it is both where I have been living<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;garamond&quot;;">And where I left --- a distance still to go<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;garamond&quot;;">Like starlight that is light years on the go<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;garamond&quot;;">From faraway and takes light years returning.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: &quot;garamond&quot;;">~Seamus Heaney, The New Yorker, December 26, 1994<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><!--EndFragment--><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div></td></tr></tbody></table>Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-9161260258228324382018-09-14T12:32:00.000-07:002018-09-20T20:15:10.396-07:00Some of my favorite things: poetry, farmland, and food<br /><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k41bbdD9Xd4/W5wHTpsmYKI/AAAAAAAAAjg/MJHGboAynKkmNv1HUDSGCIPQ-hD9IZIjgCLcBGAs/s1600/HARMONY.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="352" data-original-width="670" height="168" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k41bbdD9Xd4/W5wHTpsmYKI/AAAAAAAAAjg/MJHGboAynKkmNv1HUDSGCIPQ-hD9IZIjgCLcBGAs/s320/HARMONY.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">Harmony Fields Forever!</span><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Cheese, donkeys. ducks, eggs, herbs, and sheep! It's a wonderful litany of some of the joys of <a href="https://harmonyfields.com/about-the-farm/">Harmony Fields</a> where I will be teaching a half day poetry workshop very soon! I first met <a href="https://jessicagigot.com/about/">Jess Gigot</a> when she contacted me for some advice when her poetry collection, <a href="https://harmonyfields.com/product-category/music-poetry/">Flood Patterns,</a>&nbsp;which was about to be released.&nbsp; We met over Skype(!) and I advised her on book promotion,&nbsp; tours, and travel --- but honestly, she had figured out much of the poetry biz for herself.&nbsp; As a farmer, fiction writer, musician, poet, and visual artist --- she is a woman of many talents which is why I'm so happy to be teaching at her farm!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bow-Edison is an easy drive from Seattle and a gorgeous place to stop at the many farm stands and one of the coolest bakeries anywhere in the world, <a href="https://www.breadfarm.com/">Bread Farm</a>. It is worth the trip just to visit this world-class bakery!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Okay. I meant to write about my upcoming class on "The Poetry of Travel: How to Write of&nbsp; the Extraordinary," but I've gotten carried away thinking of miniature donkeys and bread!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here's a little information about my class! Limited to 12 participants; we welcome all people! Please know that travel can mean to travel back in time; to travel via the imagination; to travel towards the future.</span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: 700;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><b></b></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b><b><span style="font-size: small;">The Poetry of Travel: How to Write of&nbsp; the Extraordinary</span></b></b></div><span style="font-size: small;"><b></b></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><b><br /></b></b></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><b></b>Anais Nin once wrote, “We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls.” And whether the destination is Paris, Marrakesh, or the Pike Place Fish Market — the art of translation from one realm to the other remains the same conundrum. This workshop is for anyone who has traveled in the world of the imagination and/or the physical realm. We’ll look at the work of several poet-travelers and then write pieces of our own. You will leave with the starts of at least four new poems or flash fiction pieces. This class is geared towards beginners and experienced writers, and for poets as well as flash fiction writers. <b>Local lunch provided.</b></span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: small;">Instructor:&nbsp; Susan RichWebsite<a href="http://poet.susanrich.net/">http://poet.susanrich.net/</a></span><br /><span style="font-size: small;">Date September 22, 2018: 11:00 am - 2:00 pm</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: small;">LocationHarmony FieldsCost (including lunch) $80.00</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;">Contact360-941-8196 or <a href="mailto:farm@harmonyfields.com">farm@harmonyfields.com</a></span><br /><span style="font-size: small;">To register:&nbsp; check out Harmony Fields <a href="https://harmonyfields.com/event/the-poetry-of-travel-how-to-write-of-the-extraordinary/">Event Page</a></span></td></tr></tbody></table>Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-79043321949267218142018-09-06T07:53:00.002-07:002018-09-06T07:57:29.014-07:00What is your best piece of advice for aspiring writers? Thanks to Nimrod Journal~<div style="background-color: #fcfcfc; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; margin-bottom: 1.7em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k4Gh_6kwIL4/W5E9xj4vveI/AAAAAAAAAjE/B-2lPuuW5UoQO0EAiV-jI_mXKApPcByRgCLcBGAs/s1600/Me%2Band%2BSa-a%2Bcopy%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="483" data-original-width="727" height="212" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k4Gh_6kwIL4/W5E9xj4vveI/AAAAAAAAAjE/B-2lPuuW5UoQO0EAiV-jI_mXKApPcByRgCLcBGAs/s320/Me%2Band%2BSa-a%2Bcopy%2B2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The poet as a young Peace Corps Volunteer in Niger</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="background-color: #fcfcfc; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; margin-bottom: 1.7em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: 700;">What is your best piece of advice for aspiring writers?</span></div>And here's my answer:<br /><br />Keep writing and reading and surrounding yourself with people who do the same. Glean something new from every poem you read, every teacher you have. One of the beautiful things about saying yes to the call of writing is that you will always be a student of word and sound and syntax.<br /><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div>Thank you to Eilias and <a href="https://nimrodjournal.blog/">Nimrod Journal</a> for this interview. I am honored to be in the current issue Let Us Gather: Diversity and the Arts, My poem, "17 Years After Her Death, Cousin Molly Appears to Me Outside Kuppels Bagel Bakery." You can read the rest of it <a href="https://nimrodjournal.blog/">right here.</a></div>Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-16405681136419298692018-09-03T22:08:00.002-07:002018-09-03T22:08:53.844-07:00Returning to an Old Love - Joseph Cornell<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZCdJBu2svTE/W43i8qr9S_I/AAAAAAAAAiY/5w3q8Y8hDKAM8oxZUE5o1FyRWTNJdwpOgCEwYBhgL/s1600/CornellBox.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="397" height="274" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZCdJBu2svTE/W43i8qr9S_I/AAAAAAAAAiY/5w3q8Y8hDKAM8oxZUE5o1FyRWTNJdwpOgCEwYBhgL/s320/CornellBox.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cockatoo (Aviary and Watches) circa 1948</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">&nbsp; &nbsp;I believe I first came in contact with <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Cornell">Joseph Cornell</a> through the poetry of <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/charles-simic">Charles Simic.</a> Simic's <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Dime-Store-Alchemy-Joseph-Cornell-Classics/dp/1590171705/ref=tmm_hrd_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&amp;qid=&amp;sr=">Dime-Store Alchemy</a> published in 1992 was one of the first hardback books of poetry I bought. I have to admit that the cover had a good deal to do with my choice --- as did the title, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Dime-Store-Alchemy-Joseph-Cornell-Classics/dp/1590171705/ref=tmm_hrd_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&amp;qid=&amp;sr=">Dime-Store Alchemy. </a>Rereading this book now I realize it was one of the first project-based collections that I had encountered. Simic stated that he wanted to approximate in poetry what Cornell did with visual assemblage. <br /><br />In his introduction to his own book, Charles Simic writes of Cornell: <br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>"Somewhere in the city of New York there are four or five still-unknown objects that belong together.&nbsp;</b></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Once together they'll make a work of art. That's Cornell's premise, his metaphysics, and his religion....<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Cornell#cite_note-Dime-Store_Alchemy-3">[3]</a>:14 <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marcel_Duchamp">Marcel Duchamp</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Cage">John Cage</a> use chance operation to get rid of the subjectivity of the artist. For Cornell it's the opposite. To submit to chance is to reveal the self and its obsessions."</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AJSKXFziYpU/W44Muz97kgI/AAAAAAAAAis/Qclgwt4iLXoBtN94xRaqAVR3l8QYRjKwgCLcBGAs/s1600/CornellImage.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="322" data-original-width="488" height="211" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AJSKXFziYpU/W44Muz97kgI/AAAAAAAAAis/Qclgwt4iLXoBtN94xRaqAVR3l8QYRjKwgCLcBGAs/s320/CornellImage.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b>&nbsp;"My work was a natural outcome of my love for the city," Cornell said.</b>&nbsp;</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Cornell couldn’t draw or paint. He didn’t consider himself an artist, instead he called himself a “maker” or “designer.” Living in New York City in the depression, Cornell became a collector of small objects and photographs, things he found on his walks through the city.<br /><br />&nbsp; &nbsp; One day in 1931, Cornell visited Julian Levy as he prepared photographs by Alfred Stieglitz for show. Levy was just about to open the Julien Levy Gallery, and Cornell watched as Levy unpacked new surrealist collages by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Max_Ernst">Max Ernst</a>. This sparked Cornell to go home and make his own collages, using the photographs he’d been collecting. He brought the collages back to Levy, and his work debued along with the surrealists from Paris: Max Ernst, Man Ray, and Salvador Dali in the 1932 exhibition Surréalisme at the Julien Levy Gallery, the first Surrealist exhibit in America. One of Cornell’s first collages ended up being the show postcard. (Guardian)<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2748/1605/1600/cornell_medici_princess2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2748/1605/1600/cornell_medici_princess2.jpg" data-original-height="452" data-original-width="326" height="320" width="230" /></a></div><br />&nbsp; &nbsp;Much is known (and repeated) about Cornell. He lived on Utopia Parkway, Flushing, NY&nbsp; and never left the Northeastern United States. He lived with his mother and his younger brother, living alone after they'd both passed on. Cornell had no formal training as an artist, he made his living selling textiles. By all accounts, his life experiences were not vast or wide. And yet that mattered little in the making of his art.<br /><br />&nbsp; And long after many mid-century artists seem forgotten or locked in another time, Cornell seems to only become more relevant, more exciting. I recently learned that Leonora Carrington lived in the states for 25 years --- in New York and in Chicago. I can't help thinking the two of them would have had much to talk about. And perhaps they did meet, did walk through Central Park and comment on the pigeons. Perhaps.Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-27184907482840380522018-08-26T10:32:00.000-07:002018-08-26T10:32:24.462-07:00Poetry of Travel: How to Write of the Extraordinary (For Everyone) <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e_h9tqN3EUE/W4LjsobLhII/AAAAAAAAAh0/b_OOyc_RSoEB9HA-cH0XSgcoxcHnGlNxACLcBGAs/s1600/Sheep%2BHarmony.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="398" data-original-width="593" height="214" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e_h9tqN3EUE/W4LjsobLhII/AAAAAAAAAh0/b_OOyc_RSoEB9HA-cH0XSgcoxcHnGlNxACLcBGAs/s320/Sheep%2BHarmony.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harmony Fields, Washington</td></tr></tbody></table>I am super excited to return to <a href="https://harmonyfields.com/event/the-poetry-of-travel-how-to-write-of-the-extraordinary/">Harmony Fields,</a> a working family farm, to teach a one day class that includes a delicious farm to table lunch! As these Pacific Northwest days become cooler and the summer transitions to fall, it is time to jumpstart your writing practice---or perhaps begin the one you've been wanting to try for years. And there is no more inspiring and nurturing place to do it.<br /><br />Harmony Fields is located in the <a href="https://www.foodandwine.com/travel/united-states/edison-washington-best-restaurants-food">Bow-Edison</a> area of farms, restaurants, and artisan shops. There's an amazing bakery, <a href="https://www.breadfarm.com/">Breadfarm</a>, one of the best in the country, if not the world. I may not have visited the entire world but Breadfarm is a place like no other. Oh, but we will be writing poetry! All ages and people welcome. Last time our age range was 20's to 80's. And if you haven't gone on that round-the-world trip yet, no worries. A city bus ride or a walk down the grocery aisle also constitutes the poetry of travel. I would love for you to join me. Space is limited and you must register in advance :-)_<br /><br /><div class="post-2715 tribe_events type-tribe_events status-publish has-post-thumbnail hentry" id="post-2715" style="box-sizing: inherit;"><div class="tribe-events-single-event-description tribe-events-content" style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 30px; padding: 0px; width: auto;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3EAnyWwtii8/W4Ley32cHRI/AAAAAAAAAhg/zi7v41nXYxIBLpC8h6L__eCJGKZDR2hCQCLcBGAs/s1600/Blue%2BCity.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="596" data-original-width="993" height="192" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3EAnyWwtii8/W4Ley32cHRI/AAAAAAAAAhg/zi7v41nXYxIBLpC8h6L__eCJGKZDR2hCQCLcBGAs/s320/Blue%2BCity.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chefchaouen, Morocco</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;">THE POETRY OF TRAVEL: Anais Nin once wrote, “We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls.” And whether the destination is Paris, Marrakesh, or the Pike Place Fish Market — the art of translation from one realm to the other remains the same conundrum. This workshop is for anyone who has traveled in the world of the imagination and/or the physical realm. We’ll look at the work of several poet-travelers and then write pieces of our own. You will leave with the starts of at least four new poems or flash fiction pieces. This class is geared towards beginners and experienced writers, and for poets as well as flash fiction writers. Local lunch provided.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Instructor: Susan Rich Website&nbsp; &nbsp;<a href="http://poet.susanrich.net/">http://poet.susanrich.net/</a></div></div>Date: September 22, 2018: 11:00 am - 2:00 pm<br /><br />Location: <a href="https://harmonyfields.com/event/the-poetry-of-travel-how-to-write-of-the-extraordinary/">Harmony Fields</a>&nbsp; Cost (including lunch)$80.00Contact360-941-8196 or <a href="mailto:farm@harmonyfields.com">farm@harmonyfields.com</a><br />Register&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="https://harmonyfields.com/event/the-poetry-of-travel-how-to-write-of-the-extraordinary/">https://harmonyfields.com/event/the-poetry-of-travel-how-to-write-of-the-extraordinary/</a></div><div class="tribe-events-footer" style="background-color: white; border-top: 2px dashed gray; box-sizing: inherit; color: #333333; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 17px; margin-top: 1.5rem; padding-top: 1.5rem; text-align: center;"></div>Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-57151479990094160732018-08-23T22:24:00.003-07:002018-08-25T10:25:42.056-07:00An Interview with Lyanda Lynn Haupt and Carmen: A True Pleasure<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nXsYwShAtbQ/W0kpi29dWzI/AAAAAAAAAgE/DTVHgibeHPsD5WN20URClNlxof5SSJYdQCLcBGAs/s1600/Carmen%2Band%2BMe.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="560" data-original-width="408" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nXsYwShAtbQ/W0kpi29dWzI/AAAAAAAAAgE/DTVHgibeHPsD5WN20URClNlxof5SSJYdQCLcBGAs/s320/Carmen%2Band%2BMe.png" width="233" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carmen gazing out at the world from my shoulder</td></tr></tbody></table><br />My first encounter with a starling taking-up residence on my shoulder was memorable. It began with gum-like starling poop in my hair. Lyanda apologized and let me know that Carmen was a little nervous around strangers. I understood. I had fallen in love with Carmen through <a href="http://www.lyandalynnhaupt.com/press-kit">Lyanda Lynn Haupt's </a>newest book, <a href="https://www.elliottbaybook.com/book/9780316370905">Mozart's Starling</a>, published by Little Brown. However, meeting this wild bird in Lyanda's kitchen was a bit nerve wracking for me as well.<br /><br />Let me explain. I come from a Boston suburb and was raised by parents who couldn't tell a hummingbird from a goldfinch. However, moving to Seattle changed that. Seattle is a city of bird lovers where every house comes equipped with a bird feeder (okay, mine did). And this book, this book made me a bird lover for life. <b>If you read one non-fiction book this year, you need to give yourself the true pleasure of&nbsp;</b><a href="https://www.elliottbaybook.com/book/9780316370905"><b>Mozart's Starling</b>&nbsp;</a>by <a href="http://www.lyandalynnhaupt.com/press-kit">Lynada Lynn Haupt.</a> And if you're still a tiny bit skeptical of bird books,&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="https://www.npr.org/2018/06/21/621081170/librarian-nancy-pearl-picks-7-books-for-summer-reading">Nancy Pearl</a>&nbsp;listed Mozart's Starling as one of her top 7 picks on her recent&nbsp;<a href="https://www.npr.org/2018/06/21/621081170/librarian-nancy-pearl-picks-7-books-for-summer-reading">NPR gig.</a><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.lyandalynnhaupt.com/wp-content/2009/06/IMG_2306.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.lyandalynnhaupt.com/wp-content/2009/06/IMG_2306.jpg" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carmen gives her peck of approval to my favorite new book</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I first heard <a href="http://www.lyandalynnhaupt.com/about-me">Lyanda Lynn Haupt</a> at <a href="https://wordswestliterary.weebly.com/">WordsWest </a>Reading Series&nbsp;in West Seattle where she read pages from her (then) yet-to-be published book, <a href="https://www.elliottbaybook.com/book/9780316370905">Mozart's Starling.</a> I was immediately blown away. Here is a prose writer who writes sentences as beautiful as those of any poet. And just last week, Mozart's Starling was nominated for the <a href="http://www.washingtoncenterforthebook.org/announcing-the-2018-book-award-finalists/">Washington State Book Award</a>. The results don't come out for a few months but the winner in non-fiction is super clear to me.<br /><br />Here was a writer who wrote prose sounded like an epic poem Her story of rescuing (stealing) a wild starling and making it (Carmine) a member of her family amazed me. <b>Here was a story for grown-ups that read like a child's adventure tale.</b> I couldn't wait for the book to be published.<br /><br />This might be a good time to say that I am not normally drawn to non-fiction books, nor am I an avid birder. <b>And yet, during this year of reading, I have enjoyed no other book as much as I've enjoyed this one.</b><br /><br />SR: Of all the prose writers I've read, it is your work that strikes me as the most like poetry. I think it has something to do with the way you juxtapose the very personal, from working in the kitchen with your dad, with the larger world as in deconstructing the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Universal_grammar">universal theory of language</a>. Do you read poetry? Are you trying for that lyric movement?<br /><br />LLH: Thank you! I think you know what a wanna-be poet I am. I do read poetry. I read whatever happens across my plate. I read Dickinson and Whitman. I read Kay Ryan, Sharon Olds, Denise Levertov, W.S. Merwin. Lately, I've been reading the poetry of Jim Harrison because he was very interested in consciousness, in birds, and in philosophy. <b>I read more poetry than a normal person. And I love the Two Sylvias <a href="http://twosylviaspress.com/the-poet-tarot.html">Poet Tarot</a> because when I come across a poet that I don't know very much about I can look them up there.</b> I give copies as gifts to my writer friends, poets or not.<br /><br />SR: What was the inception story for <i>Mozart's Starling</i>? Were you looking for a project that combined your passions for music and the natural world?<br /><br />LLH: No, I was not looking for a project to do with music or starlings. Especially not starlings. I was actually writing my previous book and I looked out on the parking strip at a bunch of starlings and I knocked on the window to get them to go away. <b>And when they rose they were so iridescent and rainbow-like that I thought to myself, <i>damn it.</i></b>&nbsp;I know as a conservationist and nature writer that starlings are the number one most hated bird in the country.<br /><br />But they are also super pretty.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.lyandalynnhaupt.com/wp-content/2009/07/Lyanda-Haupt-June-2016edit2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.lyandalynnhaupt.com/wp-content/2009/07/Lyanda-Haupt-June-2016edit2.jpg" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lyanda Lynn Haupt with Carmen</td></tr></tbody></table><br />And in that moment I thought of the story of Mozart and his starling. It was a kind of a funny moment; this is an Alice in Wonderland kind of rabbit hole idea.&nbsp; <b>The connection between a sublime Western composer and a hated species of bird could lead to so many places.</b><br /><br />I didn't think it would lead to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noam_Chomsky">Noam Chomsky</a> and the field of linguistics (one of the paths I discovered ) but I did hope it would take me to Vienna and Salzburg. I thought of intertwined bird and human voices and our thoughts on animal consciousness; this came to me in a kind of a rush.<br /><b><br /></b><b>Then I thought to myself, but doesn't everyone already know about Mozart and his starling</b>? It's kind of old news. Luckily, my husband happened to be home and having a work retreat at the house. Downstairs there was Tom and a team of six of his team members from the NGO where he works. They are smart people. I thought, I'll just go down and see if they know about Mozart's starling. It will be my sample group.<br /><br />So I was in one of those whirlwind of inspirations that you don't always get. I dashed down the stairs and I ran into the room. And there was just silence. <b>Everyone looked at me and my husband looked at me really awkwardly as if to say, <i>honey, what are you doing</i>? </b>What I'd forgotten was that in my glamorous stay-at-home writer life, I was still wearing pajamas. I had not combed my hair.&nbsp; I was like Rochester's crazy wife in the attic. I don't think they even knew I existed.<br /><br />So I asked my question. And nothing. Finally one really nice woman said, "my dad's really into music history, I will ask him." So I went back upstairs with my answer and made a point to get dressed, brush my hair, and then come downstairs again so that the group could see that Tom's wife was not crazy. That's how it started. I was still working on my other book but I immediately started making notes.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pKpnjcrTHX8/W39KBjpQDgI/AAAAAAAAAhE/93_v2esGSMgcUjAW9p_KUXY31N_Q6lViQCLcBGAs/s1600/mozartstarling.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="331" data-original-width="220" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pKpnjcrTHX8/W39KBjpQDgI/AAAAAAAAAhE/93_v2esGSMgcUjAW9p_KUXY31N_Q6lViQCLcBGAs/s320/mozartstarling.png" width="212" /></a></div><br /><br />SR: I love the breadth of your interests---from Chomsky's Universal Theory of Language to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pythagoras">Pythagoras</a> to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wolfgang_Amadeus_Mozart">Mozart</a> to starling poop, there are so many separate threads in this book that you weave together and make seem seamless. How do you do it? Is that a problem you gave yourself to solve?<br /><br />LLH: Thank you and thank you for noticing. People who aren't writers might not look for that or notice it.&nbsp; It was actually really, really hard. Super hard. It took a lot of intention.<br /><br />SR: I'm glad to hear you say that!<br /><br />LLH: <b>I looked back at my early notes and I'd written that I wanted to weave this story so it's tightly woven like a nest. Like a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ploceidae">weaver finch</a>. </b>I love the weaver finches because they have crazy things dangling out from their nests but the nests themselves are tightly woven.<br /><br />I don't think I can tell you how I did it. It took lots of trial and error. Not just back and forth on my own process but also with my editor and my copy editor. I'm thinking of the chapter where I'm at the hotel in Vienna and I'm trying to layer on Mozart's historical time, his relationship to the starling, my current curiosity and my trip. <b>I'm thinking about all the things that might have occurred or things that have not occurred. And I'm dealing with it in all these different time periods and frames.</b><br /><br />When I wrote the chapter I used different tenses. The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wolfgang_Amadeus_Mozart">Mozart</a> part I wrote in the past and my current curiosity in the present. I let myself go with it even though that's a little unorthodox. Later, when the book was finished, my copy editor said, "I get it but I really think you need to choose. Tell me which one you want (past or present) and I'll fix it." That was very nice.&nbsp; So I tried it in my mind both ways and I consulted her and my editor. And finally I said, "I don't want to do it. Let's keep it fluid."<br /><b><br /></b><b>I don't mind pressing into a little bit of unorthodoxy once in awhile.</b><br /><br />SR: I love how you include so many of your hopes for the book that didn't come to pass. The Noam Chomsky postcard episode and Carmen's mimicry (or not) of Mozart's music. I was really enamored with the details that never actually take place. Why did you include these?<br /><br />LLH: I was writing about a subject that involved creativity. <b>One of the threads that most reviewers didn't pick-up on is, what is the source of inspiration? And that's a messy path.</b> I didn't want to mislead readers. And at the end, I exhort people to follow their own gifts as a form of art and creativity in the world. It would have felt disingenuous to make it seem like it had been a simple path. It was complicated, as I've said. Lots of dead ends. Lots of things that didn't go as I expected. I think sharing those moments made it more human and it made it more true.<br /><br />SR: It also made it more meta. It's as if you're addressing the reader. <i>This is what you think might happen, this is how things could have ended...</i>You let us in on the creative process.<br /><i><br /></i>LLH: Right. And some of it is just funny. Carmen just wouldn't learn and Mozart's grave is not what you think it is. The moral coil is fraught.<br /><br />SR: Well, the next question is specifically about humor. One of the many great surprises of the book is how incredibly funny it is. I've never laughed so much while reading a book. Never. There's the expected humorous situation of trying to write with a bird on the keyboard, the sounds of the coffee grinder,&nbsp; and also the intricacies of starling poop. Were you intentionally trying to be funny?<br /><br />LLH: I tried to write with good humor. <b>In part because of the kinds of subjects that I write about. I'm often writing about the modern ecological reality which is dire. Despair evoking.</b> I read some good nature writers whom I admire, and yet I often want to pull out my hair from boredom! So much earnestness and holier-than-thou ness. I feel we will be more successful in our efforts if we bring some good humor. I love that people laugh when they read the book.<br /><br />(At this point Carmen comes onto the table to closely inspect my notebook and pen.)<br /><br />So this is what it was like writing the book. See how she's looking. She'll inspect your pen, she will poke at your pages. Oh, now she's <a href="https://www.pugetsound.edu/academics/academic-resources/slater-museum/exhibits/terrestrial-panel/european-starling/">gaping</a> in your hair. It's so ingrained in her to search this way.<br /><br />LLH: <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ethology">Ethology</a> is coming back into vogue as we more and more accept animal consciousness. But there's this gap from the 1940's onwards beginning with <a href="https://www.bfskinner.org/">B.F. Skinner </a>where animal consciousness was not a topic for scientific discourse because it wasn't quantifiable. It's finally come back to something we can talk about. I say 'come back" because you know <a href="http://www.pigeon.psy.tufts.edu/psych26/darwin1.htm">Darwin</a> discussed animal consciousness.<br /><br />SR:&nbsp;<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Musica_universalis">Universal Harmony, </a>sound that links the plants together was a new idea to me.&nbsp; You write that this is not unique to Western culture. Do you think that listening to Carmen's sounds daily has changed your way of listening? On a larger scale, how does living with a wild thing affect you?<br /><b><br /></b><b>We live in a listening world.&nbsp;</b><br /><br />LLH: It affects the way I walk out the door. I realize that every animal I will encounter is listening in its own unique way. I know I'm entering a listening world. <b>I'd never dreamt of all that was going on with starling communication. What's going on with everyone else?&nbsp; It makes me more aware of what I say and how I say it.&nbsp; We're learning now that trees respond to our voices.</b> For example, when I'm walking outdoors I try to, more than I did before, I try to mind my attention with a sense of calm, a sense of kindness. I know that sounds weird. I'm more aware of my intention because I know my intention is being received. It matters.<br /><b><br /></b><b>I think it was <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gary_Snyder">Gary Snyder</a> who was asked how to interact with animals and his response was, "always be polite."</b><br /><br />SR What has stayed with you the most from this book? What are you most proud of?<br /><br />LLH: More people have written to me after reading this book than my other books. They say they will never look at starlings the same way again.<br /><br />But what I think what I'm most proud of is that bringing together all the different threads of this story together.&nbsp; I wrote several drafts of this book and worked really hard to get to the finished product.<br /><b><br /></b><b>Also, as a writer, and as a family, I'm proud that we were able to get beyond our preconceived notions of what it would mean to live with a wild animal.</b> I had a set of expectations or anecdotes that I thought she would provide me with. But the other things that happened were surprises: her capacity for communication, her intelligence and the new things I had never known about starlings before and could have missed if we hadn't paid radical attention to what she had to say.<br /><br />Finally, I was grateful for what you said about the poetic language of my work. <b>One of my goals as a writer is to bring a different kind of language to a subject that doesn't usually receive literary or a beautiful kind of language.</b> A language it doesn't often get. But deserves.<br /><br />Read more about Carmen and Mozart's Starling&nbsp;<a href="https://www.npr.org/sections/deceptivecadence/2017/04/20/524349771/how-do-you-bond-with-mozart-adopt-a-starling">right here&nbsp;</a>on another NPR piece.&nbsp; To learn more about&nbsp;<b>Lyanda Lynn Haupt&nbsp;</b>you can check out her&nbsp;<a href="http://www.lyandalynnhaupt.com/press-kit">website</a>. Or simply just order her book from your favorite&nbsp;<a href="https://www.elliottbaybook.com/search/site/mozarts%20starling">local bookseller.</a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-7194316157665444132018-05-31T07:00:00.000-07:002018-05-31T07:00:04.384-07:00The Art of the Interview - Seattle Review of Books<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V8_7ynXBbOg/Ww90InIAFFI/AAAAAAAAAfA/36Y5PC1-hoUWXBZmF3Pe5KVQo-_1cMN9gCLcBGAs/s1600/Music%2BInter.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="381" data-original-width="535" height="227" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V8_7ynXBbOg/Ww90InIAFFI/AAAAAAAAAfA/36Y5PC1-hoUWXBZmF3Pe5KVQo-_1cMN9gCLcBGAs/s320/Music%2BInter.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />In a parallel world,&nbsp; I am, in turn, a singer, a private detective, an interviewer of interesting people. Of these three professions, I think interviewer might suit me best. A few years ago I was the curator for the <a href="http://www.jackstraw.org/programs/writers/WritersForum/index.html">Jack Straw Writers Program</a> and my favorite part of the job was interviewing the twelve writers. I learned that a good question can cajole a writer into areas of her (or his) psyche that they may have not ever explored. A strong interview has all the positive qualities of a really interesting conversation with the added benefit of a spotlight on your thoughts and theories.<br /><br />What's not to love about being interviewed?<br /><br />Well, if you are an introvert (like me) there are many things to obsess about before the interview; for example, sounding stupid would live at the top of my list.<br /><br />Turns out, I needn't have worried. <a href="https://medium.com/@paulconstant">Paul Constant </a>of the <a href="http://www.seattlereviewofbooks.com/writers/paul-constant/">Seattle Review of Books</a> was charming, intelligent, and best of all, inquisitive. He made me feel interesting and on occasion, smart.<br /><br />It was an over-the-top honor to be chosen as Poet-in-Residence for the Seattle Review of Books and to be interviewed by Paul Constant (who I recently saw interview <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fran_Lebowitz">Fran Leibowitz</a> at SAL) was the highpoint of the month.<br /><br />Here's the beginning of <a href="http://www.seattlereviewofbooks.com/notes/2018/05/30/susan-richs-poems-are-beautiful-music/">the interview </a>with a reveal as to central theme of my next book...<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.seattlereviewofbooks.com/notes/2018/05/30/susan-richs-poems-are-beautiful-music/">Susan Rich’s poems are beautiful music</a><br /><br />by <a href="http://www.seattlereviewofbooks.com/writers/paul-constant/">Paul Constant</a><div><br /><a href="http://www.seattlereviewofbooks.com/writers/susan-rich/">Susan Rich</a>’s poems thrum with a rhythm all their own. Read any of our May Poet in Residence’s poems and you’ll likely be absorbed in the rhythm of the thing — dense internal rhythms, tricky beats in single lines, sentences that shouldn’t exist but somehow manage to thrive.<br /><br />I don’t know, for instance, how Rich makes a line like “we accordioned together vaudeville-style” work. But in “<a href="http://www.seattlereviewofbooks.com/notes/2018/05/29/self-portrait-with-abortion-and-bee-sting/">Self Portrait with Abortion and Bee Sting</a>,” it not only scans but it feels essential — like the only words that could logically fit there. Her poems are full of those impossible lines — if I ever wrote something as beautiful about an earthworm as “<a href="http://www.seattlereviewofbooks.com/notes/2018/05/15/the-scare-crow/">Pink hermaphrodite of the jiggling zither</a>,” I would probably retire in triumph.</div><div><br /></div><div>to continue reading,<a href="http://www.seattlereviewofbooks.com/notes/2018/05/30/susan-richs-poems-are-beautiful-music/"> click here</a><br /><br /><br /></div>Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-56813231325226466342018-05-18T10:50:00.002-07:002018-05-18T10:51:51.449-07:00One Must Have a Mind of a Gardener <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZdqQW_6GZuI/Wv8P3NTbo0I/AAAAAAAAAeM/aNHy6b0ZQOoRctPMypDC4FBLee07J9F2ACLcBGAs/s1600/Mind%2Bof%2BGardener%2BIMAGE.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="393" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZdqQW_6GZuI/Wv8P3NTbo0I/AAAAAAAAAeM/aNHy6b0ZQOoRctPMypDC4FBLee07J9F2ACLcBGAs/s320/Mind%2Bof%2BGardener%2BIMAGE.png" width="211" /></a></div><br />I love how this is beautiful, mystical, and disturbing all at once. In fact, I cannot stop looking. I only hope that my poem in some way enlivens it --- rather than takes away. The interplay of poem and image fascinates me. Here is this week's poem from the <a href="http://www.seattlereviewofbooks.com/notes/2018/05/15/the-scare-crow/">Seattle Review of Books</a> with a big nod to Wallace Steven's&nbsp; <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45235/the-snow-man-56d224a6d4e90">The Snow Man.</a> I wonder what he would think?<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bHRHX271w2I/Wv8RaefOJpI/AAAAAAAAAeY/TDT6CLH1k1AKCtWo09vY59H9_-bvnbGcgCLcBGAs/s1600/Screenshot%2B2018-05-18%2B10.45.16.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="472" data-original-width="481" height="314" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bHRHX271w2I/Wv8RaefOJpI/AAAAAAAAAeY/TDT6CLH1k1AKCtWo09vY59H9_-bvnbGcgCLcBGAs/s320/Screenshot%2B2018-05-18%2B10.45.16.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />to continue reading this poem, please check out the <a href="http://www.seattlereviewofbooks.com/notes/2018/05/15/the-scare-crow/">Seattle Review of Books </a>---- to which I am eternally thankful for their belief in my work and the choices that they have made for each week's poem. I especially love that this is appearing at the time that I desperately try to find time to get tomatoes into the ground.<br /><br />Each year the belief in the indistinct and indeterminate future that it takes to do this amazes me. I didn't grow up gardening so the alchemy of dirt, water, and light to create edible plants simply amazes me. I don't think I am the only one! What do you love to plant?Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-40015513917893420722018-05-09T18:42:00.003-07:002018-05-09T18:42:38.545-07:00Poet-in-Residence for the Month of May @ Seattle Review of Books<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://images5.alphacoders.com/712/712643.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="527" data-original-width="800" height="262" src="https://images5.alphacoders.com/712/712643.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;I am so stoked to have been invited to be Poet-in-Residence at the <a href="http://www.seattlereviewofbooks.com/">Seattle Review of Books</a> for the month of May. What this means is that each Tuesday a new poem of mine will appear on the site with a small tag that states, "Susan Rich is this month's Poet-in-Residence." There's something about being offered this platform by Paul Constant and Martin McClellan that makes me feel a bit more connected to my city. A bit more located.<br /><br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; This week, my poem <a href="http://www.seattlereviewofbooks.com/notes/2018/05/08/profiled/">"Profiled"</a> is featured; a poem about a student I had a few years ago who was both more fascinating and more frustrating than most who had come before. It is exhausting to be challenged on each word, each sentence, each assignment. And yet. He was engaged with his educational experience and wanted to learn. For the very last reflective assignment, an assignment that students had the option of writing as a letter to me about their experience he wrote: "I no longer feel the need to be invisible. And I thank you for that."<br /><br />&nbsp; Over the next three Tuesdays, there will be more poems posted. My hope is that the work reaches a wider audience, in this case, an audience of teachers and students who might not pick-up a poetry magazine. Coming up next: Scarecrows, Maps, and Bee Sting Abortions!<br /><br />&nbsp; &nbsp;I'd love to hear your thoughts on any of these pieces. "Poetry is a conversation with the world,"&nbsp;<a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/naomi-shihab-nye">Naomi Shihab Nye</a> has stated. You come, too! Please pull your chair a little closer to the table. Everyone is welcome here.Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-62658747182128042412018-04-28T15:22:00.000-07:002018-08-02T13:40:36.825-07:00IN THE SHAPE OF A HUMAN BODY I AM VISITING THE EARTH (or a cat body) - READ THIS!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KbQ6ILC1Ddo/WuS_9F31P_I/AAAAAAAAAdg/XobK6WBUJSEjyM52g3-psjKgI8Sm2I4LwCLcBGAs/s1600/IN_THE_SHAPE%2BOF_A_HUMAN_BODY.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KbQ6ILC1Ddo/WuS_9F31P_I/AAAAAAAAAdg/XobK6WBUJSEjyM52g3-psjKgI8Sm2I4LwCLcBGAs/s320/IN_THE_SHAPE%2BOF_A_HUMAN_BODY.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watson recommends this poetry anthology!&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Sometimes a gift comes out of the universe by way of the Saturday morning mailbox. Today is such a day. This little book (which makes Watson, my tuxedo, look like a giant) is the anthology, IN THE SHAPE OF A HUMAN BODY I AM VISITING THE EARTH, edited by Ilya Kaminsky and published by McSweeney's. This is not just another anthology. This is the best anthology I have read in years because every poem will "grab you by the teeth" as the editors write in their introduction.<br /><br />The poems here were originally published in Poetry International, the beautiful journal published by San Diego State University (where Kaminsky is on faculty). I can name names here: Tracy K. Smith, Charles Simic, Seamus Heaney, Jericho Brown, Federico Garcia Lorca, Mahmoud Darwish, Eavan Boland, Carolyn Forche, Eric McHenry, Anna Swir, Malena Moorling, Jane Hirshfield and many others. Too many to name and really what are names?<br /><br />Here is is the poem that counts; the poem that will make you feel like the top of your head has been taken off (thanks, Emily). Will make you happy that poetry exists in the world --- the reasons for poetry are all here --- all from poets from across continents and timelines.<br /><br />I'll copy the title poem out just to lure you into finding yourself a copy. It's only $14 and a perfect size for traveling. Let me be clear --- this won't earn the poets inside a penny but it will give readers great joy! I feel as if I've discovered a poem that I will hold close all my life.<br /><br /><br />VISITING<br /><br />In the shape of a human body<br />I am visiting the earth;<br />the trees visit<br />in the shape of trees.<br />Standing between the onions<br />and the dandilions<br />near the ailanthus and the bus stop,<br />I don't live more thoroughly<br />inside the mucilage of my own skull<br />than outside of it<br />and not more behind my eyes<br />than in what I can see with them.<br />I inhale whatever air<br />the grates breathe into me.<br />My arms and legs still work,<br />I can run if I have to<br />or sit motionless purposefully<br />until I am here and not here<br />the way death is present<br />in things that are alive<br />like salsa music<br />and the shrill laughter of the bride<br />as she leaves the wedding<br />or the bald child playing jacks<br />outside the wig shop.<br /><br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Malena Morling from the anthology:<br />IN THE SHAPE OF A HUMAN BODY I AM VISITING THE EARTH<br /><br />Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4294176875047610623.post-34901785654580127792018-04-17T13:14:00.002-07:002018-04-17T13:14:42.002-07:00Tomorrow, 7 pm at WordsWest -- Come see Aimee Nezhukumatathil and Me~<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-660-MtxCp_s/WrqROzR4tSI/AAAAAAAAAc0/ztCQS4fmP6srk1CSypVrNaq_DPuPueg4QCLcBGAs/s1600/WordsWest_34.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="321" data-original-width="843" height="151" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-660-MtxCp_s/WrqROzR4tSI/AAAAAAAAAc0/ztCQS4fmP6srk1CSypVrNaq_DPuPueg4QCLcBGAs/s400/WordsWest_34.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />I'm <i>still</i> in disbelief that I will be reading with&nbsp;<a href="https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poet/aimee-nezhukumatathil">Aimee Nezhukumatathil</a>,&nbsp; t<b>omorrow night, Wednesday,</b> April 18th. It seems impossible that after all the planning and organizing, the date will actually arrive.&nbsp;<a href="http://candpcoffee.com/">C and P Coffee Company</a>&nbsp;is housed in a 1920's Craftsman and is the heart of our community. What better place to have a reading series? Come early to assure getting a seat --- then you can order your coffee, beer, or wine. See you soon!<br /><br /><br />Susan Richhttps://plus.google.com/110295549330157103804noreply@blogger.com0